Rescue
by nArCiSsTiC wOnDeR
Summary: She would never look at him the same way again... T for themes, R
1. Rescue

Elaine would probably never look at Kramer the same way again, not after how he saved her.

She had simply been sitting in the sun, in a small corner of the prison courtyard, contemplating her absurdly boring existence, when those footfalls sounded in the yard.

Cold, chilling, eerie, foreboding foot-steps, and she looked up, her brown eyes widening as she saw she was surrounded by four men, each as ugly and sleazy as the last- she instinctively knew what they had been put in gaol for already.

She swallowed, standing up and backing into the wall before realizing she was effectively cornered.

She would have no chance- muscles bulged beneath their shirts, and they grinned maniacally.

One was particularly bold, and while all the others stood uncomfortably close to her, he leant forward and trailed his dirt stained fingertips across her delicate cheek, and she flinched, his bad breath shrouding her like death looming over its victim.

'Inshee pretty?'

'Elaine!'

They all scattered as her eccentric friend came striding towards her, and his expression turned startled, then rock hard when he realized how fortunate it was he had found her.

'Elaine? Are you okay?' His expression was still cold and hard, though his voice was tinged with concern and underlying fury. She didn't get time to answer, as the men turned confidently towards the stranger- a wiry man with frizzy brown hair, an easy victim to take out.

It was surprising how strong his blows were, as effortless as walking and as fluid as water.

Soon they were on the ground, and he quickly turned to her.

'Elaine? Did they do anything? Are you okay?' He spoke fast, and she managed to nod, frozen in fear. He kneeled down and held her shoulders.

It was a nice sensation, his broad hands on her fine, elegant shoulder bones.

He looked at her searchingly, before pulling her to her feet, and then awkwardly hugged her. He obviously didn't hug people- she could feel it in the way his large form wrapped around her small one. It felt nice all the same, his enthusiasm making up for his lack of experience.

They had then returned to another one of Jerry's performances. Jerry had lost his enthusiasm after the first few days, missing their bizarre life.

They all did.

But Kramer was the only one that made them laugh nowadays- his bizarre, uplifting behaviour did something, made them strong enough to last them in that hell hole for the amount of time they were forced to reside in it.

Elaine looked at him with new respect after that, recognising the childish innocence and maturity he did have, when it suited him.


	2. Masquerade

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Seinfield or Phantom of the Opera

* * *

'Elaine?'

Her friend's confused voice broke through her veil of shrouded thoughts, and she blinked slowly, and then turned to him.

'Sorry, Jerry, I was just spaced out,' she said dismissively, waving a hand in an airy fashion.

Her friend looked at her with sceptical eyes. Ever since the day before, Elaine had changed. She would often sit in the corner or her cell for hours on end, and more than once, he had seen her deep brown eyes drift towards the eccentric he called friend.

'So, Jerry, when's your next show?'

They turned to the eccentric –speak of the devil- as he grinned, making a clicking noise with his tongue.

'I've given up,' the subject of the conversation said gloomily, stirring his spoon in his cereal.

The other didn't look particularly shocked. In fact, he simply shrugged it off, indifferent to the cloud of misery surrounding his friends.

Jerry noticed a small smile tugging at his female friend's lips, as she briefly glanced at the eccentric man, who sat down, reaching to pull a cigar from his lips that wasn't there.

His own tawny brown eyes met hers, and he briefly smiled.

Jerry had never seen him smile before- at least not like that.

He wasn't sure what to do, feeling awkward- obviously something or rather had happened.

Thankfully, a little bald man cleared his throat.

Jerry cleared his plates for him, and he sat down, and rested his head on the cold, hard metal surface of the table.

It was only then that he realized that the seating arrangements had completely changed within their ridiculous, but close group.

He had always sat next to the bizarre one, and his female friend next to the one sitting next to him.

Now, she was sitting with the wiry man, and him with the short one- when had that changed?

The wry, frizzy haired man began to hum a tune that Jerry only vaguely recognised, though it seemed to make his friend frown, then smile.

'I never knew you had seen Phantom of the Opera, Kramer,' she said in surprise.

'Oh, yeah! Brilliant musical.' He grinned, popping his lips and making another noise, before singing under his breath.

'_Masquerade…_

_See the shadows creeping by._

_Masquerade._

_You can fool any friend who ever knew you…'_

Jerry and his other friend felt somewhat confused, as the tall man looked at their female friend in an almost worried way.

'Hey, George, have you got weightlifting this week?'

Jerry made an attempt to bring the talk back together.

He snorted. 'Unfortunately.'

'Hhm,' Jerry said vaguely.

Both she and the wry one stood up.

'Cleaning duties,' she said apologetically, wringing her hands.

Jerry knew a lie when he heard one.

As soon as they had left, he turned to George, and frowned.

'What was that about?' he asked.

George shrugged. 'I thought it was pretty bizarre too.'

**Author's Note: **Updates when I'm inspired... I'll mention people who tell me the relevance of the song to the story.


End file.
